


you look like my next mistake

by nokomisfics



Series: cost you to keep me quiet [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, HAHA WAIT WHAT PLOT, M/M, Model!Sherlock, Photographer!John, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, confident dick!Sherlock, handcuff play, jk read and review loves, meek but sexy!John, plot ha ha what's that, porn kink, shut up i'm giving away the plot, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokomisfics/pseuds/nokomisfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part II of Model!Sherlock 'verse. Or, the one in which Sherlock cuffs himself to the bed and gets John off anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you look like my next mistake

**Author's Note:**

> this work is part of a series. however, you need not have read the first part to read this one if you enjoy porn without context. here's context for you: Model!Sherlock, Photographer!John and Sherlock turning Sherlock on. do we write smutty fanfic for Holmes or Cumberbatch? we will never know.

John Watson had begun living in his inbox. He refreshed thrice a minute. On his laptop, on his smart-phone, on the bed and then on the floor and then at the window. He did other things too, of course: watch crap telly, pace back and forth, swing by Tesco's for bread and milk. It had just been three weeks since his last job (which he had _royally fucked up_ by _royally fucking someone_ ) and he hadn’t received word from his agent and he wasn't scared.

He was just. Terrified. That this was the end of his career.

So, of course, when he got the message, he didn’t think twice of it.

**Come at once, if convenient. SH**

It was Holmes, obviously. He didn't bother wondering how the man had obtained his contact details. He didn't bother with the lack of courtesy in the message (something told him he should be thankful Holmes had bothered signing it at all). He didn't think at all, actually. He just grabbed his work bag, and his phone, and his coat, and was out in less than three minutes.

It was rather pathetic, if he really thought about it, so he didn't. He didn't ponder the possibility that perhaps Holmes was calling him for something other than another gig. And he _certainly_ didn't let himself remember the last gig, and how it ended with him slowly fucking Holmes in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror so the man could _see himself come_.

Holmes was _mental._

And that was obviously why John held out his thumb to hail a cab that would take him to Baker Street, right back to Holmes. In the cab, he received another text: **If inconvenient, come anyway. SH**. He had to try to keep from grinning.

The landlady let him in without a fuss but with a knowing glance that rather discomfited John, who had already convinced himself that he was just here for another gig. That's why he had brought his _work things_ , wasn’t it? Sure, his agent hadn’t informed him of this, but that was okay. Maybe they arranged it so that Holmes would just directly contact John from now on. That was a thing that could have happened.

The door to the flat was closed, unlike the last time. John set his work bag down at his feet and knocked at the door lightly, expecting it to swing open and remaining surprised when it didn't. There was the soft padding of feet, unsteady like the man was carrying something, and then the door swung open and John realised just how mistaken he had been.

(If he were to be really honest with himself, however, he'd admit he hadn't been expecting anything else.)

Holmes, naked from head to toe, cock hard and leaking against his stomach. When his dark eyes met John's, the man's hips bucked involuntarily and John almost lost it.

"Hi," breathed John, because what else was one supposed to say in situations like this one?

"Get in," said Holmes, and his voice didn’t even waver, the fucker. He stepped back and John stepped in. Holmes shut the door and came to stand in front of John. "Funny story, actually."

"Let's hear it."

"Really, _really_ horny."

"Ah." John licked his lips and tried not to look to eager, like those words in _that fucking voice_ didn’t make this all the more difficult. "So this is how it's going to be?"

"Don't be boring," snapped Holmes. He strode off into his room, and John followed meekly. To say he was hard would be a bit of an understatement. He tried keeping his eyes off Holmes' arse, and failed spectacularly.

John made to say something boring like "What's today's plan?" when he walked into Holmes' room behind the man, but then he saw the camera set up, and the handcuffs attached to the curtain rod, and figured it best if he just stopped talking altogether.

"Need your help," hissed Holmes, standing in front of the _bloody handcuffs_ and raising his wrists over his head. He fixed John with a searching glance, daring him to leave. "Cuff me."

John didn't know he would be into this until those two words, and now he wondered why he never had considered it before. Holmes' hips bucked once again under John's gaze. Jesus _fucking_ Christ. "Sure," said John, proud of the steadiness in his voice. He walked up to Holmes and guided his wrists into the cuffs, clicking them shut.

The moan Holmes let out then was almost inhuman.

"Christ," breathed out John, stepping back to study the man who was naked and cuffed to the curtain rod. His cock was positively straining against his stomach, his knees gone limp so that the cuffs were the only thing that kept him up. He looked so utterly debauched.

"The camera," choked out Holmes, nodding towards the gadget behind John. "Turn it on."

"Are you _fucking_ serious," said John, quiet enough that it didn’t sound accusatory but loud enough that it didn’t go unnoticed. As he turned around to stand behind the camera, he was almost sure he saw Holmes smirk. "So I _am_ here for the job."

"Always wanted an accomplice," said Holmes, in tones so sure it didn’t sound quite like the confession it really was.

"An accomplice for what?" John cocked an eyebrow, turning on the camera and bending down to look through the lens. "Making a porno?"

"No," Holmes hissed through his teeth. "Just pictures."

Of _fucking_ course. "Ready?" asked John, his voice sounding just as choked.

Holmes immediately got rid of the illegal look on his face, fixing the camera with a smouldering one and nodding almost imperceptibly.

John realised he could do this for the rest of forever, and probably never get his cock down in the entirety of that time.

Holmes with his wrist bound in cuffs, stretched out over his mane of messy dark hair, lips full and plush and eyes dark, lustful, daring.

John wondered how bad it would be if he got himself off on this, but when Holmes let out another long, hungry moan, John figured _fuck it._ Fuck it all.

_Click._

And before he could help it, scenarios began running through John's head. Holmes, naked but for a collar, standing in front of the curtains and being commanded not to move. Holmes pounding in and out of him, his eyes fixed on the mirror as he watched _himself_ , because _watching himself turned him on._ Holmes stretched out lazily on the bed, stroking himself in front of a camera because he'd never have it any other way.

And, John thought discreetly, Holmes with his limbs tied down, body arching upwards as he moaned and came from the sensation of ropes against skin and eyes on him.

Holmes lifted his eyes to meet John's, and never before did the latter know he could come from a look alone, from a low voice saying 'yes' so quietly, but he _did_ come from that look alone, from the voice that guided him through it, and maybe later he'd ask Holmes exactly how he managed to remain in control while being rendered completely immobile.

John didn't leave the apartment, and Holmes didn’t leave the handcuffs, for quite some while after that. There wasn't any touching involved. Just panting, and clicking, and the slow realization dawning on John that if this continued, he'd probably never get off with anyone else ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
